Like This Would EVER Happen
by RenieandtheMoo
Summary: Krum falls in love with Seamus. Like I need to warn anyone it's slash. Please read and review. We do need a title still, so if anyone thinks of one...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** None of this is mine. Except the plot idea. I think it's the only Krum/Seamus I've ever seen. If anyone else has ever seen one, please tell me, I'd like to read it.

Please review this - I need reviews the way other people need food, and you don't want to let a poor innocent fanfic writer die from lack of reviews.

Dedicated to the Moo, who read this through more times than any self-respecting human being should and helped me do Krum's accent justice, despite the fact that I don't think she appreciated the idea of Krum and Seamus together. Don't worry, Moo, the next one will be you and Seamus - I know you want him...

**The Secret Diary of Seamus Finnigan**

I can't wait for the World Cup! We're going to win! I just know it. I can feel it in my bones. I saw it in my tea leaves. Not that I even drink tea. I hate tea. Hang on, I've just got to tell Dean to stop leaning over my shoulder.

We arrived at the World Cup today. Mum had this fight with a Ministry man about our tent. Just coz it looks like a shamrock-covered hill doesn't mean the Muggles will notice anything out of the ordinary. Or maybe they will. Maybe they will recognise that it's not simply a random hill. Maybe the fact that it has a doorway could give it away.

But anyway, it's not like the Bulgarians don't have stuff all over their tents. Although, I suppose the Ministry's been going off their heads at the Bulgarians too. At least our tents camouflage. And our tents are well-decorated. All they have on their tents are pictures of Viktor Krum. I mean seriously, what's so good about him? I've heard he's brilliant and all, but he can't possibly be as good as Lynch.

Harry and Ron and Hermione are coming this way. I'll finish this and talk to them. See if they're obsessed with Krum yet.

Yeah. They're obsessed. At least, Ron's obsessed. I watched them go over to the Bulgarian tents, where all the posters of Krum are. Our tent isn't far from the Bulgarians' tents. I could still hear them talking. Ron looked with this awed expression.

"Krum," he said.

"What?" Hermione asked.

Ron got agitated. "Krum!" he said. "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

"He looks really grumpy," Hermione observed, looking at the posters critically.

Now Ron looked outright horrified. "'_Really grumpy_'" Ron demanded. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young, too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a _genius_. You wait until tonight, you'll see."

So yeah, Ron's a Krum-obsessive. Hermione hasn't even _heard_ of him. Has she been living in a chocolate box or something? Never mind. At least she's not obsessed with him. Why can't anyone seem to understand that Lynch is at _least_ five hundred times better?

Oh well. Ron'll see tonight. Ireland will win, _easily_. Come to think of it though, he probably actually wants Ireland to win; he's just fallen in love with Krum. I would never be that stupid. He's not even good-looking, and besides, he's a guy, and I don't believe I'm gay.

**The Secret Diary of Viktor Krum **

I don't really feeling like writing my diary at the moment, but my friends tell me it's therapeutic and relaxing and I'm nervous. What if we _lose_? We haven't lost a game in ages, but that's no reason for us not to start now. Indeed, it's probably our turn to lose. Not that teams take turns losing. It ought to depend on how good the team is and, though I know we're good, I also know that the Irish Chasers are _really_ good. What if we're not good enough? Right, this isn't helping. It might be therapeutic, or good for you, but all it's really doing is making me write down all my fears, and that's just making it worse.


	2. Chapter 2

Right, the second chapter's up. Thanks heaps to those people that reviewed. I'll be quick coz I have to go.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot. But I might one day... mwahahahahaha...

**The Secret Diary of Seamus Finnigan **

We won! Only by ten points, but still, we _won_! Not that I doubted for a second. We had to win. So what if the Bulgarians had Krum? We had Connolly and Ryan and Troy and Mullet and Moran and Quigley and Lynch! There's seven good players and they only had _one_! Ha!

Anyway, I'm too happy to describe the whole match at the moment. It was all too good, and it would take pages and pages to write down the whole thing, and besides, I'm running out of ink. However, before I can't write anymore, there's a weird thing that happened near the end of the match. Or maybe it wasn't so weird, it just seemed weird to me, coz he was looking straight at me.

I was watching Krum through my binoculars – yeah, that's right, ordinary binoculars. I couldn't afford omnioculars – when Krum swung round on his broom, and he seemed to be looking right at me. But he must have been staring at something, coz there was a Bludger zooming straight at him and he didn't even see it till the last second when one of his team-mates called out to him. By that time, though, it was too late. He didn't duck in time and it slammed straight into his nose. I swear I heard the sickening crunch as it hit, only I couldn't have, coz I was too far away.

But anyway, he was _staring straight at me_! Like, his eyes were looking into mine, except that couldn't happen either, coz he probably couldn't see my eyes as the binoculars were in the way. But if he could've, he would have been.

I swear, he was staring at me. But I've knocked over my drink, so I'll finish writing now.

Anyway, _we won_! So I'm going clean up my drink and celebrate.

**The Secret Diary of Viktor Krum**

I saw my true love for the first time today. He was just an ordinary spectator; I thought when I initially noticed him. Just an ordinary _Irish_ spectator. I payed little attention to him; it's not like he was the only Irish supporter there. But as the game went on. I looked at him more and more. There was nothing special about him, but something about him fascinated me. When I was supposed to be watching for the Snitch, I found myself drawn towards his end of the pitch. I watched him closely, trying to understand what had made him stand out. He was just one little green man in a mass of little green men, but the way he jumped and waved his arms and shouted was so elegant, so graceful. It almost looked like a dance move. He was perfect, I thought to myself. I could look at him forever.

Or not. Occasionally I remembered that I was supposed to be playing a Quidditch match, not ogling a random member of the crowd. I was lucky nothing terrible happened. I could have been hit by a Bludger and killed.

In the end, I did get hit. I was staring at my love, whoever he is, when I heard someone yelling at me. "_Duck, Viktor!_" I looked up. There was a Bludger coming straight towards me. Not enough time to duck, but I tried anyway. It hit me in the face. I broke my nose; it's probably going to be crooked forever now, and my love will never love me the way I love him.

As the Bludger hit me, I heard whoever was shouting at me yelling, "Honestly, how thick _are_ you!" but I wasn't really listening: Lynch had seen the Snitch. For the first time in the whole game, I really tried to focus. I pushed Him out of my mind and followed Lynch. I caught up to him, passed him and got the Snitch, then wheeled round to look at my true love. He was cheering. He looked so beautiful, so… Oh, I don't know. How can I describe him? He's simply perfect. But I don't even know his name, so I can't track him down and find him. Still, I must be blessed to get those glimpses of him during the game.

Oh, one more thing. We lost.

**The Secret Diary of Volkov, One of Krum's Team-Mates**

I'm worried about Viktor. Ever since we lost the World Cup, he's been strangely, deliriously happy. As if we won. Usually when we lose - not that us losing is a usual occurrence – he gets really depressed. I don't mind that he's happy; that's probably a good thing. I expected him to be close to suicide after we lost. He doesn't take losing well.

Finally, after a day of being completely puzzled by his behaviour, I asked him, "What's so good, Vik?"

"That," he declared happily, "was the best game of Quidditch I've ever played in my life."

I frowned. Maybe he's losing his memory. "Uh… Vik, don't you remember?"

"Remember what?"

He seemed so happy; I didn't want to re-break the news to him. "We lost, Viktor."

Viktor shrugged – shrugged as in "_So what?_" Like he _didn't care._

"But… you— we—" I didn't know what to say. It didn't matter. Vik seemed to understand what I was asking.

"I met – well, _saw_ – my true love yesterday."

There wasn't much I could say to that either. This must be a really true true love if she makes Vik happy when he's just lost the World Cup.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors' Note:**We'resorry this is so short, but we'll put another one up very soon. Thank you so much toDarkPhoenix1987, Hope4faith and nickyfox13, for you reviews. And, by the way, we know it's a really weird pairy, it's not _meant_ to be serious.

**Disclaimer: **We don't own anything, except our warped and twisted minds.

**The Secret Diary of Viktor Krum**

There's going to be a Triwizard Tournament. I'm going to Hogwarts for the year, with some of the others from Durmstrang. I'm so happy they chose me. Hogwarts is in England, obviously, which is closer to Ireland than Bulgaria is, so maybe I'll find my true love. But what if he's in Ireland? Then I'll never meet him. Unless I go to Ireland and search him out. He'll see me on the street as I search for him, and he'll realise his deep passionate love for me. Then he'll come and talk to me. "I love you Viktor," he will say, although there might be a greeting first. He might say hello before he declares his undying passion.

Then I'll say, "I love you too…um, what's your name?"

And he'll tell me his name, and it will be something beautiful. Then we'll kiss. And I'll finish on that note, because it's such a happy note that I don't know what else to write.


	4. Chapter 4

**Authour's Note: **This is a nice long chapter, to make up for the last short one, hope you like it, and thanks for the reviews!

**Disclaimer: **We don't own anything, but one day we'll take over the world.

**The Secret Diary of Seamus Finnigan**

Today, the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons people arrived. The Beauxbatons people weren't all that interesting; they arrived in a massive flying carriage. However, the Durmstrang people…

Come to think of it, why should rising out of the lake in a ship be anymore interesting that landing in a flying carriage?

I was sitting with Dean, who, as usual, was trying to draw me. "Sit _still_, Seamus." He muttered. "Honestly, are you even _capable_?"

"You sound just like Hermione." I said helpfully, as all of a sudden, the perfectly still water of the lake became less perfectly still. "Look at the lake, Dean!" I cried, jumping up.

Dean threw down his sketchbook in frustration. Poor Deanie. Why doesn't he try and draw someone else?

Anyway, this massive, skeletal-looking ship rose out of the lake. First the mast poked out, then the rest of it poked out, only it wasn't really poking, mostly, coz the mast was the only really poky bit of the ship. I wonder how that ship got in the lake.

"Look Seamus," Dean poked me. "There're people getting off!" He was right. People were getting off the ship. I couldn't see them very well – it was dark – but they all seemed massive. That wasn't true. They were wearing fur cloaks. It's not fair: they have the _coolest_ cloaks, and we have to go round in these boring black robes.

At this point, I figured out who our visitors were. "Dean," I said, "it's the students from Durmstrang."

He looked at me like I'd grown three heads. "Yeah Seamus," he said, "I knew that, like, from the beginning."

"It's not my fault!" I retorted indignantly. "You're the one always telling me Irishmen are stupid, aren't you? You're the one that always does bad jokes about Irishmen."

He nodded. "I s'pose… By the way, I heard this joke—" I hit Dean with his sketch book. As you can imagine, he didn't appreciate it. At this point, one of them – the headmaster, I suppose, coz he was too old to be at school – cried, "Dumbledore! How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

Dumbledore made the weirdest-sounding response: "Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff."

As he came into the castle, Karkaroff looked up at it with a remember-the-old-times sort of smile on his face. "Dear old Hogwarts," he said with a sort of insincere joy. "How good it is to be here, how good…" He paused, then turned to one of the students. "Viktor, come along, into the warmth… you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…"

And as Viktor came in, I looked at him, and he looked at me, just like he'd looked at me during the World Cup. I realised then the thus far indecipherable emotion in his eyes – Viktor Krum was in love with me.

I sat there feeling utterly stunned, listening to the awed voices around me. I heard Ron hissing, "Harry – _it's Krum_!" but I didn't take much notice. Viktor Krum is in love with me. _In love with me_. Krum was still staring at me. Just staring, with his eyes wide with awe. Like I was some kind of god. I felt so awkward.

What could he possibly see in me? What's so special about me that an international Quidditch star can look at me like _that_? Not that I've got low self-esteem, but, I'm just so normal, and he's so talented and, well, _famous._ Like, he could have anyone he likes and he picks me. Wow, that makes me feel really special. Maybe that's what's special about me. I feel special coz he loves me, and he loves me coz I'm special. Now hang on, firstly, that's really circular. That means he wouldn't have seen anything in me till after he already loves me. Also, I don't want famous Quidditch players in love with me, especially not Krum.

As we started towards the Great Hall, I heard a sixth-year mutter to her friend, "Oh, I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me." She was looking intensely distressed as she searched her pockets. "D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

"_Really_," Hermione sighed.

"_I'm_ getting his autograph if I can," Ron retorted, "you haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?"

"Nope," Harry replied, "they're upstairs in my bag."

"Perhaps he'll sign _your_ hat in lipstick," I suggested to Ron, who glared. "I assume you have some; I know you _wear_ lipstick."

Ron didn't seem to think this was even worth answering. We sat down at the Gryffindor table. Ron was staring at Krum, who was staring at me; I chose to stare at Ron to finish the triangle. The Beauxbatons students sat at the Ravenclaw table. The Durmstrang students were still standing in the middle of the hall, unsure of where to sit. I could tell Krum wanted to sit beside me, but there was no space, and anyway, he was a _Bulgarian Quidditch player_. Maybe if it'd been one of the Irish ones I could've found room, or if Krum hadn't been looking at me with an expression of unashamed awe. But anyway, his friend muttered something to him and dragged him on, towards the Slytherin table, where the two of them settled themselves beside Draco Malfoy. Ron looked scornful as Malfoy leaned forward to talk to Krum. "Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy," Ron growled.

I snorted. It's not like Ron'd be doing much different if Krum was beside _him_.

**The Secret Diary of Viktor Krum**

We arrived at Hogwarts today. At first, it wasn't very enjoyable; I have a horrible cold and my head feels like it's been stuffed full of fairy floss. I hadn't been looking forward to spending the year at Hogwarts, not that it would have been any better at home, or at Durmstrang. It would have been taking valuable time away from my search for Him. And then, I saw Him… What's he doing here? I thought he was Irish, although, come to think of it, I have no proof he's Irish; there were probably English people supporting Ireland at the Cup. I hope he's not Irish: the Irish beat us, so I'm not sure if I can bring myself to love an Irishman. No matter, this is going to be the most wonderful year of my life, whether he's Irish or not. He's here, within my reach (well, almost: if I got up and walked over to his table, I could touch him). I felt much better after that.

I didn't get to sit next to my love. I wanted to ask him if I could, but there didn't seem to be any space. Well, that's a lie. I was just to shy to ask. There was plenty of space.

I tried to get up the courage to ask, but before I had the chance, my friend Dimitri Mendeleev dragged me off to another table and we sat down beside this blonde-haired kid who immediately leaned over to talk to me, as though he knew me personally.

I'm not paying much attention; I'm writing, and thinking about Him. I wonder what his name is? He's so beautiful…The epitome of perfection. I don't know what I can say about him. He's... Oh, I'm so glad he's here. Even in those black Hogwarts robes he's stunning…he's

Oh, Dimitri's reading over my shoulder. He's laughing. Oh, go _away_! Right. He can't see what I'm writing anymore. The blonde kid is trying to look, but I don't believe he can read Bulgarian. Maybe it's not such a good idea to write in your secret diary at a crowded table.

The food must be here soon; I'm starving. I'm probably looking longingly at the empty plates without realising. Look! The plates are made of gold! Alright, the food's here. I'll put this down.

**The Secret Diary of Dimitri Mendeleev**

We arrived at Hogwarts today. Their hall (it was massive and called – very imaginatively – the Great Hall) was impressive. Its ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside and also, they had gold plates. So what if it's an extravagant waste of money? It looks good and makes them appear ridiculously wealthy.

We stood around in the hall for a while, till I realised we were expected to sit down. Viktor was staring blankly towards one of the tables. I wondered absently what he was gawking at, but I didn't really care, and dragged him off to a random table.

Now, here's the shock. I was sitting inspecting the gold plates (fascinating. I wonder where you get pure gold plates; I wouldn't mind some), waiting for food and talking to the kid beside me when I decided I was excluding Viktor. He's kind of shy, and tends not to join in conversations of his own accord. I looked over at him and realised he was writing in his diary.What is _with_ him and that diary? Does he always write in it?

So, that was alright; he didn't need including in the conversation. But then I accidentally caught the last few lines he'd written: _Even in those black Hogwarts robes he's stunning_.

And I thought, right, Viktor's in love and I laughed. But then, I thought, _he's_ stunning! Viktor's in love with a _he_! I stopped laughing abruptly. Did I read that right? Is that really what it said? I tried to look again, but Vik had turned away and I didn't see anymore. Now I'm just left to contemplate this.

Maybe he wasn't serious. Maybe he just wrote it coz he caught me looking and wanted to shock me. Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe he's not saying that coz he's in love. Maybe he's talking about what someone else said. Whatever, enough of the maybes. It can't be true. Viktor's not _gay_!


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Sorry this one's short. It was meant to be part of the last chapter, but we forgot to put it there. Thanks to everyone that reviewed - you made the sun shine a little brighter for me. Er, maybe not. Never mind, thanks to the reviewers. Um, yeah.

**Disclaimer: **We only own the plot; the rest belong to J.K. Rowling. With luck she'll have left it all to me in her will.

**The Secret Diary of Seamus Finnigan**

I'm sitting in the common room now, laughing at Ron. I doubt he managed to eat _anything_ at the feast, he was so busy staring at Krum. He's got tomato sauce all down his front now. He kept completely missing his mouth.

Dumbledore's drawn an Age Line around the Goblet – not that I ever mentioned the Goblet till now. Anyway, there's this Goblet of Fire that you put your name in if you want to enter the Tournament – did I even mention the Tournament before now? I'm no good at diaries – but Dumbledore's drawn an Age Line around it so no-one under seventeen can cross it to put their name in. I can't understand why I couldn't pay someone older to put my name in, or scrunch a piece of paper with my name on it into a ball and throw it over the line.

Not that I'm going to try; it'd be cheating, and besides, I don't really go in for glory and riches and that kind of stuff. I'd be too embarrassed having people looking at me all the time. Never mind, I'll tell everyone else my bright ideas.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Thankyou to all our reviewers, we are eternally grateful.

**Disclaimer: **We don't own anything except perhaps the weird pairing

**The Secret Diary of Seamus Finnigan**

Viktor Krum just talked to me! He instigated a conversation with me! Not that I'm in love with him or anything, it's just that he's a famous Quidditch player and maybe he can teach me how to become one, so I can be famous too one day. Only I don't really want to be too famous. We could play on the same team, only that he's Bulgarian and I'm Irish.

But anyway, I'm getting off track. I was on the way to Divination when I heard someone behind me. Assuming it would be Dean, who'd lost his textbook, I called out, "Hi!"

Then the mysterious person caught up with me, and there he was! It was Viktor Krum! Not that I even like him or anything, but it was like, wow, he's famous.

Oh wait, I've already said that bit. Just get the picture, no matter what I say, I don't care one iota about Krum. But Krum spoke to me, and he said, "Hi," then he added, "Vot is your name?"

A famous Quidditch player wants to know my name! Now, where was I? Oh yes. So I said my name was Seamus Finnigan. "I'm Viktor Krum," he told me, like he wasn't a world-famous Quidditch star.

"I know," I said, then he looked at me, and suddenly I couldn't think of anything else to say. But it _most certainly wasn't_ the sort of awkward silence you get when you're talking to your crush. We stood there for a few awkward moments before I said, "I'm going to be late for Divination," and turned to leave.

Now I'm sitting in Divination writing. Do you reckon anyone ever actually get any useful information out of astrology charts? I can do tea leaves, coz it's like making pictures out of clouds, and with crystal balls all you can really say is, "um… it's going to be foggy tomorrow", although with Trelawney you can pass anything so long as you predict Harry's death, but I just can't get _anything_ out of astrology.

The lesson's nearly over now – thank God – although we have potions next. I reckon we should always have Divination last, because the incense makes me sleepy.

Oh my God, I actually _saw_ something in a crystal ball. Just as I was leaving Divination, I peered over Trelawney's shoulder into her crystal ball. So anyway, I glanced at Professor Trelawney's crystal ball, as I left, when I thought I saw a glimpse of something plain and fogless. I came closer (Professor Trelawney looked at me a bit strange, but I didn't notice till afterwards), and there it was – clear as day, Viktor Krum was kissing someone. I tried to figure out who it was, but I was seeing them sort of from the back, so I couldn't tell. Whoever it was, they were kind of short, with sandy-blonde hair and – alright, alright, I'm in denial; I know what you're thinking: yes, it was me.

So here was I, standing there looking shocked, and Trelawney said, "Did you have a vision, dear?" and I sort of squeaked and nodded, so she asks me, "What did you see?"

"Nothing." I told her, "Nothing important anyway. It's not going to come true is it? Is it?" I demanded.

"I do believe you have the Inner Eye, dear," Professor Trelawney told me soothingly. "I always saw it in you."

Now, being told I had the Inner Eye was a wee bit much for me, so I gathered up my books and ran.

**The Secret Diary of Dean Thomas**

Seamus has been acting really bizarre since Divination today. He came running into potions a few minutes late, shaking, and with a fearful look on his face. Snape told him off and took ten points from Gryffindor, then Seamus sat down heavily beside me and said, "I kissed him…"

"Kissed who, Seamus? Kissed a guy?" I asked. "What on Earth are you on about?"

He mumbled something I couldn't hear. "Calm down, Shay," I whispered, "just breathe."

After a few minutes, his breathing slowed and I thought he might be able to tell a comprehensible story. "What happened, Seamus?" I asked cautiously.

"I kissed Krum and Professor Trelawney said I had the Inner Eye. Now shush, Dean, Snape's glaring at us." And he wouldn't tell me any more for the rest of the day.

Seamus kissed Krum? I seem to have missed something here. I know for a fact that Seamus hates Krum with a passion simply because everyone else adores him and Seamus insists that every single one of the Irish players is as good, if not better. Beside, I don't think Seamus is gay. Last I heard, he had a crush on Lavender.

And what has Trelawney got to do with this? It seems to me like Seamus thinks that kissing Krum makes Trelawney think he's got the Inner Eye. I'm completely lost, but then, Seamus is like that sometimes; what makes sense to him doesn't necessarily make sense to everyone else. There'll be something he forgot to tell me.

I wonder who's going to be in the Triwizard Tournament. I've been doing a survey of random people I meet in the corridors. Most people seem to think Krum for Durmstrang, but I've had all manner of answers for Hogwarts, and no-one seems to have any idea who'll be the Beauxbatons champion. I'll have to ask Seamus what he thinks.

Seamus says, for Durmstrang, "Not Krum. Definitely not Krum. Anyone but him. It'll probably be him though."

For Beauxbatons, "That pretty French girl."

"They're all pretty, Seamus," I told him, "and they're all French."

"Yeah, but they're not all girls."

Right, so he's narrowed it down to 50 of the Beauxbatons population. I know who he means, the one Ron's obsessed with.

For Hogwarts, he said, "If Harry was old enough, probably him. _Definitely _him. He got round the first-years-can't-have-broomsticks rule in first year, so why can't he get round the age rule in this. Besides, that stuff just seems to _happen _to Harry."

"Na, seriously, Seamus."

"Some wanker from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Cedric Diggory or someone."

How is it that writing in a diary always seems to strangle anything you want to say and make it sound like the most boring thing that's ever happened? Because, I think I have quite an interesting life, and yet this diary makes it sound like the dullest, most humdrum (who says 'humdrum', anyway?) existence on this planet.

I give up on diaries.

**The Secret Diary of Viktor Krum**

Remember how I said I was going to find Him and ask him his name, then we were going to kiss? It didn't work like that. I asked him what his name was; he told me it was Seamus Finnigan. No kiss anywhere in that. Oh well. I suppose I couldn't have expected someone so perfect to kiss me. Especially not the moment he met me. But it's a beautiful name. A beautiful name, but it doesn't do him justice. No words can describe his perfection; no name can encompass his beauty. I was right, I thought, as I stood watching him, seeing the way the sunlight glinted off his golden hair. He is perfect, more than that. But how can you be more perfect than perfect? I swear, he's not human. He's come down from Heaven.

I tried to talk to him, but how could I say anything worthy with those beautiful hazel eyes watching me like that? Indeed, how could I say _anything at all_? Those eyes…like the rest of him. How can anyone be so _perfect_!

And how can perfection love someone as hopeless as me?


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note - **Yay, here's a new chapter. I love reviewers. Um.. Random fact - Krum's friend Dimitri Mendeleev is named after the guy that invented the periodic table.A little reminder: this is still dedicated to the Moo, as I never would have posted this without her. And a BIG reminder: everyone who reads this please review. Okay, right, I'll stop babbling and you can just go on and read it. Have fun!

**Disclaimer: **It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, except the plot.

**The Secret Diary of Viktor Krum**

Dimitri is poking me. He says that they're about to draw the names out of the Goblet. He reckons mine'll be one of them. I can't understand why the rest of the world thinks I'm so special. I mean, I'm good at Quidditch, yes, but nothing else. "No," I tell Dimitri, "it'll be you, not me."

The Goblet spits out a fragment of parchment. Could it be the same scrap of paper I put my name on? He's about to read the name, holding the paper in the light of the flames so he can see the writing.

"The champion for Durmstrang will be," he proclaims, "Viktor Krum."

Wow! It's me. I can't believe it! It can't be me. I'd better stop here and go up.

**The Secret Diary of Dean Thomas**

I gave up on giving up on diaries. We know who's in the Tournament now. Krum was called out first. Ron leapt to his feet, applauding to the extent that I thought his hands would drop off. "No surprises there!" Ron shouted. Krum was congratulated by a whole load of people as he made his way though the door behind the staff table.

I have a bet with Seamus: he's bet me a chocolate frog that the champions'll be the pretty French girl, Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory and Harry. I was like, "Hang on Seamus, that's four," but we made the bet anyway.

The next one was Fleur Delacour, for Beauxbatons. "It's her, Ron!" Harry yelled.

"That's the one I meant," said Seamus. Several of the Beauxbatons girls broke into fits of sobbing.

"Meant what?" I asked.

"That's the pretty French girl."

Finally, the Hogwarts champion: "The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!" Dumbledore declared.

"Three out of three!" Seamus yelled in my ear, grinning. "Didn't I say it? Krum, the pretty French girl and a wanker from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw!"

I laughed. "Maybe you _do_ have, like, the Inner Eye or something. Maybe Trelawney was right." That reminds me: I have to ask Seamus what's with the whole 'I kissed Krum' business.

So anyway, that was good; we had our three champions. Suddenly, though, the Goblet took it into its head – not that it has one – to give us another name. Dumbledore took the last piece of parchment and stared at it as the hall fell into silence. "_Harry Potter_."

There were several long moment of silence. I looked around. Just about every one had a different expression. Some were angry, some puzzled; Harry was white with shock. Seamus had a _very_ odd expression on his face. "Four," he whispered to me as hushed talk started to spread round the hall. "I knew it." At this point, I recognised the look on his face: it was the look Trelawney gets on those rare occasions when she actually makes a correct prediction. Like he really did know. Like he's actually had the Inner Eye all these years – well, this year and last year and probably before we even started doing Divination – and said nothing. Okay, that's just a weird thought. Forget that; he just guessed lucky. Maybe he just thinks like a Goblet. However he knew, it means I owe him a chocolate frog.

Harry, though. Harry in the Triwizard Tournament. It's like Harry's cursed with some curse that makes things like this happen to him. Seamus had it perfectly when he said "That stuff just seems to _happen_ to Harry."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **Sorry, another really short one. But don't worry, I'll put the new chapter up tomorrow. Thanks to everyone that reviewed, so, read this now and enjoy it!

**Disclaimer:** It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, except the plot and Krum's friend Dimitri. He is MINE! ALL MINE! Mwahahahahahaha...

**The Secret Diary of Viktor Krum**

I haven't written in ages. I'm too busy thinking about the Triwizard Tournament. I still can't believe it. I'm in the Tournament. Everyone thinks I can do more than just play Quidditch! I'm going to let them all down. If only I had more than one talent, then I might have a chance of winning this Tournament, and that might impress Seamus.

Apparently, the first task is a dragon. Karkaroff told me. It's cheating, but I don't really care. At least I'll have a chance to prepare, then I can impress my Seamus. At least, that's what I thought. The task is tomorrow and I still don't know what I should do. The others, Harry Potter – I still can't understand how he got in – Fleur and that Diggory guy are going round looking so composed, so sure of themselves, like they know exactly what they're going to do.

I'm going to lose this Tournament. I don't know what to do! I'll just stand there, clutching my wand, while a dragon breathes fire at me. Or I'll do something stupid, make a fool of myself, get myself killed, then Seamus will never care about me. He'll just see me as the weirdo Durmstrang guy who tragically died in the Triwizard Tournament. Or maybe the weirdo famous Quidditch player who tragically died in the Triwizard Tournament. Whatever, he won't remember me as anyone special.

Oh, this is like before the World Cup. I'm just writing down all my fears and making it worse. I can imagine Seamus sitting beside me though, with his arms round me, telling me it'll be alright. That's a better image.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **Right, a long chapter today. I know I said I'd put this up yesterday but I didn't get a chance tilltoday. Whatever, enjoy it. Thanks for all those encouraging reviews and people that told me to keep this up. You make me feel very happy.

**Disclaimer:** None of this is mine, aside from the plot, Dimitri Mendeleev and the colour of Seamus' eyes (I'm not sure what colour they are in the book, so I just said they were hazel).

**The Secret Diary of Seamus Finnigan**

The first task was today. Classes finished at midday. Poor Harry. He was sitting in lunch poking uncomfortably at his food and looking nervous. Dean was acting all excited, saying things like, "I can't wait for the first task to start!" Come to think of it, he probably was excited, but somehow, all I could think of was poor Harry.

I tried to be interested. "I know," I said, "We'll get to see Harry fight a dragon."

Suddenly Dean stopped. "What was that Seamus?"

"We'll get to see Harry fight a dragon!"

"How do you know?"

"What do you mean?"

Dean shook his head, a bewildered expression on his face. "I mean, no-one knows what the task is yet. Even the champions aren't supposed to know."

He was right. How had I known that? Maybe I _am_ developing the Inner Eye. That can't be happening. There's no such thing as the Inner Eye. Professor Trelawney never actually sees the future hardly; she's just a fraud.

Anyway, forget that. What was I trying to write about? Yes. The first task. I kept wishing Harry good luck. I was trying to make him feel better, maybe. Eventually, though, about the third time I said, "Good luck, Harry,", or, "Don't worry, you'll go fine,", he gave me a look that was clearly saying, _If you wish me luck one more time, I'll go on a psychopathic rampage_. He wasn't really appreciating my support, so I glared at him and said, "Fine, but don't expect me to cry when you die." Harry stared at me for a few short moments, then burst out laughing.

That's good: Harry's feeling happy.

The first task was, well, exciting. Cedric was first. I was right; they had to face a dragon. Cedric's was this massive blue-grey dragon – well, I suppose all the dragons were massive. Anyway, he Transfigured a random rock into a little black Labrador, which went a bit psycho and started running round randomly and barking. The idea was to distract the dragon, I think, but then – Cedric must've got too close, I guess – it gave up on the dog and turned against Cedric. Still, he got the egg.

Fleur tried some sort of sleeping spell on the dragon (it was massive and green – the dragon that is, not the spell), which was pretty cool until the dragon started snoring. It went to sleep and all, but the thing was, it snored fire, see, so her skirt caught on fire. But that was okay; she got the egg too.

Krum hit his dragon (which was massive and a kind of blood-red colour) in the eye with some spell. I seriously can't believe he didn't think of flying. I mean, he's a famous Quidditch player and all. Anyway, the dragon went stumbling round blindly while Krum got the egg, but the rest of the eggs got pretty much squished.

Harry's was awesome.

He summoned his Firebolt (I wish I had one, not fair). He can actually _do_ a Summoning Charm; Professor Flitwick's going to love him forever more. Harry and Hermione and Flitwick can be in a…

Right, forget that. That's a wee bit too disturbing. Anyway, Harry Summoned his Firebolt and got the dragon to take off while he dived underneath it and got his egg. It was pretty cool. Dean's trying to talk to me; I'll leave this now.

**The Secret Diary of Viktor Krum**

We had the first task today. I was such a failure. All the eggs got trampled. I still had no idea what to do, standing in that tent about to face the dragon, when I suddenly remember that someone had told me once that a dragon's weakest point was its eyes. That helped. I did a Conjunctivitis curse, but I didn't realise the dragon would go into throes of agony and trample all the eggs.

The worst bit, thought, was looking up into the crowd and seeing my true love, Seamus, up there. He had seen the whole thing…every bit of my miserable failure. Why am I such a failure? Why can't I have a useful talent? Oh well. Harry and me are tied in first place so far, which is more than I ever hoped for. Maybe that will impress Seamus.

Oh , if only I'd thought of flying like Harry did. Harry flew so well. Seamus probably saw that and… what if he's in love with _Harry Potter_? What if he's never even thought of guys that way? Even if he had, he's so… wonderful, he surely must already have someone else.

What will I do if he never loves me? Ah, woe is me…

I've been watching Seamus. I want to say something to him, but those gold-flecked hazel eyes put me off. His eyes always seem to be laughing at something, and I'm scared if I try to talk to him, they'll be laughing at me. Besides, everywhere he goes, the tall black boy with the sketchbook is beside him. How can I profess my undying love for Seamus when he's with someone else? Someone else that he almost gives the impression of being in love with…

I just need to get over this Seamus boy, stop thinking about him. I should find a nice Bulgarian girl… But how can I do that? How can I forget an angel?


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **Sorry, it's taken me forever to update. I keep meaning to, but other things keep happening. Anyway, this is, I think, my favourite chapter in the whole thing, so enjoy it.

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, none of it's mine (at least, nothing you recognise), else I'd be living in a castle in Britain and be richer than the queen. And I'm not. And I live in Australia in a little house, so whatever.

**The Secret Diary of Seamus Finnigan**

I reckon Krum is stalking me. Every time I turn around, there he is, just lurking behind a door, or I see his funny hooked nose poking round a corner, and I laugh. Dean asked, "What's so funny, Shay?"

So I told him. "I think Krum is stalking me coz wherever I look there he is, trying to keep out of sight, only his nose gives him away, and he looks so funny…" I started cackling insanely. Dean looked at me pityingly, his expression clearly saying, _now let's just take you to the nearest asylum_.

"What, so a world famous Quidditch star is stalking you, yeah? Like someone actually cares about you? As if! – na, sorry, that was mean." He paused. "Of course Krum cares about you. He loves you! And you love his nose." Dean launched into a rant about how Krum and me would be absolutely _perfect_ together.

I backed away slowly, leaving him ranting to thin air. Just as I left the room, I saw Lavender coming in. That was good, she would see Dean ranting to thin air. That's what madmen do! She'll think Dean is insane. Only I don't want her thinking Dean's crazy. That's _my_ role. _I'm_ the resident insane person around here. Mwahahahaha…

But whatever. Moving along…

So, I was backing away, and, as I was walking backwards, I didn't realise I was approaching the portrait hole. I stumbled, ran into it and tripped. So here was I, making an utter fool of myself and falling out a portrait hole. I mean, seriously, how do you fall out a portrait hole? It's like falling up the stairs, though I must admit I am quite capable of that.

Anyway, I fell out the portrait hole and – guess what? – there was my famous stalker, Viktor Krum. So Krum caught me in his arms and looked down at me with these deep dark brown eyes – almost black – and I was like, he's so _tall_, because I'm kinda short and he's pretty tall, so he seemed really tall. And I looked up at Krum and realised he had that same love-struck expression I had seen on the day he arrived.

_Oh dear_, I thought. I could tell I was going pink, or at least, I could until I progressed past pink, and then I had no idea _what_ colour I'd turned. But I probably was about the same colour as Ron's infamous dress robes.

I began to stutter something, which was incomprehensible even to my ear, but Krum seemed to take it along the lines of, "I love you, dear Vicky", because he pulled me closer to him and leaned down to kiss me.

"I…um...it's," I stammered, then, "No, don't!" as his lips were suddenly against mine. All of a sudden then, I had a kind of out-of-body experience and I realised, in a detached sort of way, how laughable my situation was.

Almost without thinking, I pushed Krum away and dived through the still-open portrait-hole, stifling laughter. I looked up from my position sprawled across the floor to see Dean closing his sketchbook with a satisfied, smug, almost triumphant look on his face, like he'd just drawn something the whole school was going to know about by the end of tomorrow.

Oh God, how did I get myself into this?

**The Secret Diary of Viktor Krum**

I had him there, for a moment, in my arms. He was looking into my eyes and for once, those golden eyes – well, they're not quite golden, they're sort of gold and green, well, hazel, but they're too pretty to be just plain hazel. Anyway, his eyes looked serious for the first time; I could almost imagine he loved me. He wasn't laughing at me. I was holding him in my arms, and he didn't mind.

He said something, but did it really matter what? I couldn't hear him; I was to busy marvelling at him. Up close, he is still flawless, still everything I have ever dreamed of. Even the freckles on his nose are too beautiful to belong in this world…and that messy blonde hair, like a golden halo. But his eyes are – oh, I don't know – like jewels in his bright face. But I've never seen or heard of any jewel that colour. There can't be anyone the world who isn't wishing those eyes would look upon them with love.

As you see, I had no choice but to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him deeply, passionately. I leaned forward, and our lips touched, then suddenly his eyes _were_ laughing, and he pushed me away and threw himself back through the entrance into his common room.

I thought then that he loved me, but I was wrong. Did he just look at me like that so I would think he loved me – so he could lead me on, then reject me at the last moment? My angel wouldn't do that. My perfect little angel… He _couldn't_ do that; he's too…

But how much do I actually know about him? His name is Seamus, and he is the very definition of the word beautiful. And he's Irish, I think. That's all. Maybe under that captivating exterior, he has no personality to speak of. No, I couldn't believe that of my Seamus.

Oh, stop that! He's not yours, Vik. He's not, and he probably never will be. Stop thinking about him. Move on. Find someone else, someone within reach; above all, find someone _female_.

**Author's note: **Just thought I'd remind you, as I love reviews so much - please read AND review, else I'll hunt you down and MAKE you review, mwahahahaha.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N **Sorry, I think we've taken ages to update. But be excited, we have almost reached the thrilling end of the story. One more chapter to go! And thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I will hunt down those who read and didn't review.

**Disclaimer: **As usual, we don't own anything, though I can proudly say this is the only Krum/Seamus fic I can find.

**The Secret Diary of Seamus Finnigan**

I'm going to go insane! There isn't _anyone_ left in school who hasn't asked me, "How are you and Vicky going, Seamus?" No, that's not true, Lavender hasn't mentioned it.

I was right about Dean's drawing: he'd sketched the moment Krum's lips had touched mine, and by the end of the day, everyone in Gryffindor had seen it. Two days later, everyone we have classes with knew. By the end of the week, the whole school had heard of it.

And now, every time I walk down a corridor, someone says to me, "Off to see Vicky are you?", or asks me how our relationship is going. I've already beaten up Goyle about it, which, I must admit, was a _very_ bad idea. It's not good to provoke people twice the size of yourself.

Harry and Ron are causing chaos behind me with a pair of fake wands. Harry just accidentally whacked me with a rubber haddock. It's a wonder Professor McGonagall hasn't noticed yet.

Ah, here we go. She's telling them off.

"Now Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age," she's saying crossly, "I have something to say to you all."

I wonder what. Maybe I should actually put down my diary and pay attention. Oh, hang on, there's homework written on the blackboard, I'd better write it down.

There's going to be a ball. Apparently the Yule Ball is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament (it's supposed to help us socialise with the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang people) and a time for us to, as Professor McGonagall put it, "let our hair down".

Which means I'm going to have to ask someone to the ball. Like, ask a girl. Oh, this is going to be so_ humiliating_. Also, we have to wear _dress robes_! Why can't they let us come in something more _normal_? Still, I shouldn't be complaining: I remember Ron's dress robes and I think maybe mine aren't so bad after all. We made such fun of his dress robes, me and Dean, when we first saw them, but I think now he's getting me back by talking about me and Krum.

Dean is going to die a slow, painful death for that. I _told_ him it wasn't what it looked like, but he just said, "I know," laughing like a madman, then called out, "Hey! Lavender! Come and take a look at this!" And once he'd convinced Lavender that it had really happened, that he couldn't draw anything without seeing it, I knew I would never hear the end of it.

Now, as to who I will ask to the ball, I would say Lavender is the most obvious candidate. I mean, she's pretty, and she's friendly, and most of all, she's the only person left in the school who hasn't made a comment about me and 'Vicky'. Oh, and Hermione, but I'd have to go into the library to find her, and the library is scary.

Now Dean is tormenting me. "Are you going to ask Vicky to the ball?" Hang on, I have to hit with my diary.

Right then. I'll ask Lavender. That should get all thoughts of me and 'Vicky' out of Dean's head.

**The Secret Diary of Dimitri Mendeleev**

I finally figured out what's up with Vik. He's been acting all weird. I eventually gave up on the sideways approach (asking sneaky questions and trying to catch him off-guard) and asked him straight out. "What on Earth is _up_ with you!"

He looked at me awkwardly then. "Do I _have_ to answer that?"

I nodded. "That's the fourth time you've walked into a wall in the last half-hour! What's up?"

He continued to look uncomfortable. Eventually he muttered one word, so quiet I couldn't hear. I leaned closer. "What was that, Vik?"

"Seamus…" he whispered.

"What? Who's Seamus?"

"I don't know…" Vik said anxiously. Then louder, "Does it matter? He's gorgeous, but so what? He'll never love me."

There was a shout of laughter from outside somewhere, so I went chasing after the culprit. Someone had heard us and gone running off shouting, "Viktor's gay! Viktor's gay!"

I caught them, but no doubt everyone will know before long.

So I came back to Vik, and said, "So the problem is...you want to ask this Seamus to the ball but you're scared he won't go?"

Vik nodded sadly and wiped his sleeve across his face. I realised he was crying. "Don't cry," I said, not very sympathetically. "Why don't you ask someone else, then at least we'll know if Seamus likes you, if he looks at the person you take jealously."

Maybe that would get his mind off this Seamus.

But I was right! He is gay, like I thought when I saw his diary when we first came here. It's not something I would've expected of Viktor. I always thought he was a bit more manly that that. But I suppose gay guys can be manly too. I'm just under the impression that gay guys are always girly. That's possibly not true though.

Doesn't matter. So long as Vik doesn't throw himself off a tall building or anything, I'm happy.

I wonder what this Seamus thinks of Vik? And who is he anyway?.

**The Secret Diary of Viktor Krum**

The ball's getting close. Uncomfortably close, so Dimitri said, when he realised he only had three days left to find a partner. I don't need to worry. I have a partner. She's not Seamus, but she's sweet, and pretty (in a strange sort of way), and she must be the only girl I've seen here who doesn't look at me adoringly.

I should be happy, I know. She's all that, but she's just not Seamus. She hasn't got his bright happy face, or his shining eyes. She hasn't got that halo of golden hair, or his cute Irish accent (I never thought, after the World Cup, that I'd be able to say an Irish accent was cute). She's pretty, but Seamus is beautiful. I can imagine that Seamus in bed beside me, in my arms, is all I could ever want. I can't feel that love for Hermione.


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry, this has taken me forever to upload this. Thanks for waiting. Um... I don't like this chapter as much as the others - it's a wee bit sudden, and - I dunno, I just don't reckon it's as good. Never mind. Read and see what you think. And review PLEASE, and I'll give you invisible vegemite sandwiches.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything except the Krum/Seamus thing - get the point, otherwise I'd be richer than the Queen and my roof wouldn't leak when it rains, would it?

**The Secret Diary of Seamus Finnigan**

I did the stupidest thing at the ball last night, but the thing is, I found myself enjoying it.

The ball started out alright. Not that great. I was feeling self-conscious in my dress robes, so I kept having to glance at Ron to reassure myself that somebody looked weirder. Lavender asked me, eventually, "Why do you keep looking at Ron?"

I laughed. "Coz I think I look bad till I see him."

"You look fine, Seamus," she reassured me. "You're the cutest guy here."

I grinned. "Thanks, Lavender."

We got to see Harry dance. Me and Dean waved at him and giggled (well, we didn't giggle, giggling is girly, but still); Lavender waved at Parvati – his partner – and giggled. Fleur Delacour, the French one, came with Roger Davies, who was clearly totally smitten with her. Cedric took Cho Chang, which was to be expected. Krum's partner was Hermione, but barely recognisable. She'd done something with her hair – it was straight and shiny, instead of being bushy, and she'd got her teeth fixed at some stage. Seriously, she didn't look like a beaver anymore! She looked pretty. I felt a strange pang - I didn't know why. I knew it wasn't coz Hermione was with Krum, not me; I've never had any feelings for Hermione past that she's my friend and she's really smart. So... that left only one option - one _utterly impossible_ option. So I quickly forgot about that. I simply couldn't be.

So, the ball was fun, until about halfway through. Hermione had come to sit with us while Krum, she said, had gone to get drinks. She was telling us excitedly about how he'd kept coming into the library to ask her but couldn't get up the courage, when Lavender said to me, "Are you jealous, Seamus?"

"Jealous of what?" I asked crossly, knowing what was coming next.

"Jealous that Hermione got Krum, instead of you!"

That wasn't even worth answering. I stormed off, hearing Hermione say, "Do you know he only asked you to the ball because you hadn't made a comment like that, Lavender?"

So I decided to go for a walk. I didn't really want to go outside: it was too cold, so I was wandering randomly along a corridor, and I took a spiral staircase leading up to the top of Trelawney's tower. About three quarters of the way up, on a little landing, I saw a figure crouched on a window sill, silhouetted against the moonlight outside. Coming closer, I figured out that it was Viktor Krum.

"I thought you were getting drinks for…" My voice trailed off, when I realised he was poised, ready to jump. _Viktor Krum was about to commit suicide_.

Obviously, I had to save him. I wrapped my arms round his waist and pulled him backwards. We both landed with a thud on the stone floor. "Are you alright?" I asked, pulling him to his feet. He shook his head.

"Were you going to jump?" I demanded. "Why on Earth…?"

Tears glittered in his eyes. "You don't love me…"

"And you love me?"

He nodded. "I haff ever since I first saw you – you vere at the Vorld Cup, veren't you?"

He's got the cutest accent – all his _W_'s are _V_'s.

"Yeah." I said. "So you _were_ staring at me! It's no wonder you lost." Oops, that was _utterly_ insensitive. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

He sort of shrugged, then continued his story. "I saw you in the crowd, and I couldn't stop thinking about you after that. Vondering how I vould find you, vot I vould say to you ven I did. Then it turned out you vere at Hogvorts. I vos so happy, but then I noticed you vere alvays vith that tall black boy, and I thought maybe – you know – you and him…"

I let out a shout of laughter. "What! Me with Dean? Don't worry, it'd never happen. He's just my friend."

He looked somewhat relieved, then went on. "I saw you tonight, vith that girl—"

"Lavender," I put in.

He nodded again. "That one. And you looked so _happy_! So I thought, he'll never love me. So I vonted to kill myself. I told Hermy-own-ninny I vos going to get drinks, then I came up here. I vos sitting here for a vile. I'd just found the courage to jump ven suddenly there vere hands around my vaist, pulling me back. I turned round and saw you. I thought for a moment you did love me. That maybe you'd come to tell me that, but then I thought, how vould you know I vos going to jump? You vere probably just here at the right time, so you couldn't just let me die…"

Tears filled his eyes again, and I saw one roll down his cheek as he glanced over his shoulder at the open window. He just looked so sad, and all of a sudden I knew how to fix it. I reached up on tiptoe and kissed him.

It was so right. Like it was meant to be, or something clichéd like that. So what if he's a Bulgarian Quidditch player?

I think – no, I _know_ – that I'm in love with him.


End file.
